


Not Dead.

by InkyKinky



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform, aot - Freeform, jeanmarco, literally the name, marco is not dead, no dead marco, not dead, probably, snk, the empty coffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1974279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkyKinky/pseuds/InkyKinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally the title.</p><p>Marco is not dead. Also Jean swears a lot.<br/>In the end Marco's nose is bleeding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Dead.

Jean’s eye twitched.  
‘Well, short version... _not dead_.’

  
***

Jean was earlier than the others. They had agreed on meeting up in a shady pub where they wouldn’t draw much attention when they wore hats and capes all the time or talked whispering and with hushed voices. He didn’t like to walk alone lately, not only because he felt less save from an attack by random Military Policemen (where he constantly failed to pull the trigger) but also because he had those dreams again. And sometimes, they crept back into his real life when he wasn’t distracted. Sometimes he could feel the heat of the cremation, or the bones he held that day, hoping to be a part of Marco. Sometimes he saw Marco’s deformed grin that gave him the creeps. It didn’t look like Marco and yet it was him. The half-eaten body – Jean really didn’t want to know how it had felt to die that way. And then all the other bodies he had seen. This wasn’t what a teenager was supposed to witness.  
‘You shouldn’t have done this,’ he murmured in the faint hope the freckled man would hear him in heaven. This was were he would go to, right?  
‘Oh – oh, I’m sorry.’  
Jean had ran into a young man about his size. He shrugged it off, muttering a ‘whatever’, and took a seat at a table in a corner. There wasn’t a window nearby, so no surprising attackers or unwanted listeners. Jean congratulated himself on how well he chose this table.

The next to enter was Mikasa. Jean felt a bit uneasy as she approached, especially since she had a very – for her standards – serious look.  
‘Hey – Mikasa–’  
‘Shut up, Jean, listen. I’ve been followed around. There’s a guy’ – she pointed at the door – ‘He probably will enter in a few minutes when he thinks it’s save. He is suspicious.’  
So they sat there, more or less obviously eyeing the entrance.

‘Excuse me?’ a soft voice behind Jean asked. From the corner of his eye he could tell it must have been the boy he ran into before. Mikasa hushed at him. So _obviously_ , he was no threat.  
‘Excuse me, I saw you previously, you were engaged in the spectacular cart chase a few weeks ago–’  
Jean looked at Mikasa. Indeed, she looked busy with observing, so Jean had to stop their new friend from being too conspicuous.  
‘Well, I thought it’d be a great story from _the past_.’  
Jean still tried to ignore that boy. Maybe that would shut him up. Though, the voice seemed familiar...  
‘I am always glad to see _familiar faces_ , and knowing loved people _have survived–_ ’  
Jean twisted around in his chair, looking in a chocolate-brown pair of eyes behind – behind a pair of glasses. Jean’s eyebrows furrowed.

There was a long silence.

After squinting his eyes several times, moving his head back and forth to examine the person in front of him better, Jean let out a gasp.  
‘ _The. Fuck._ ’  
Now, even Mikasa turned around.  
‘Bott,’ she deadpanned, and turned around again. _W-wait – WHAT?!_  
Jean’s mind was still processing very slowly, similar to classes in a hot afternoon in summer. There he stood, yes, there were too many similarities that it could be a coincidence.

There were no longer freckles, those hundreds and thousands of freckles – no trace of them.

‘H-Hey Jean,’ the man spluttered nervously, rubbing his nose – a faint freckle reappeared.  
‘Seriously?’ Jean’s voice was close to a hysterical laughter, ‘ _Seriously?_ ’  
‘W-well, yes, probably.’ Marco was in his social-awkward mode.  
‘After – after all these months you just – I thought you were _dead_ , Marco, I prayed you weren’t but you were dead, I saw _your body_ , I saw the cremation, I saw your bones burning, Marco!’ Jean had jumped to his feet. He did not know what he felt. Was he angry? Or sad? Disappointed, or just really, really hurt?

‘Well, it was complicated, I could not just go to you and tell you I was alive.’  
Jean’s eye twitched.  
‘Well, short version... _not dead._ ’  
Jean’s urge to slap the not-yet freckled man in the face grew with every millisecond. His glasses looked incredibly ridiculous. He wanted to punch this stupidly adorable smile away that tried to be some kind of an excuse for the last months.  
‘ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?! ALMOST A YEAR – ALMOST A YEAR HAS PASSED AND YOU DIDN’T GET THE STUPID IDEA TO MAYBE TELL THAT YOU’RE ALIVE?!’ – the people in the pub stared at him in a mixture of shock and annoyance. ‘HOW THE FUCK DARE YOU COME HERE, AFTER ALL WHAT HAPPENED TO US ALL, HOW DARE YOU LET ME SUFFER – LET US ALL SUFFER AND MOAN AND THEN COME BACK LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?!?’  
‘J-Jean–’  
‘NO MARCO BOTT, I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET I HOPE YOU HAVE A GODDAMN EXCUSE FOR COMING BACK LIKE THAT!’  
‘Jean.’ Mikasa’s grip on his wrist was firm and it hurt, ‘Cut it. Everybody’s watching us already.’  
‘No, Mikasa – NO, THIS BASTARD – THIS BASTARD, this FUCKING BASTARD–’  
CRASH.  
Jean was strangling Marco on the ground, the latter trying to wrestle Jean for every gasp, but before he would give up breathing completely, Mikasa parted them, grabbing Jean in a headlock.

***

Their view from the café to the pub a few metres across the street was acceptable. Mikasa was certain the fishy man still had followed them, especially because of their gracious departure through the front door.

‘Why.’ Jean was tired of being angry. Marco actually was a saint, so he actually had no right to be angry.  
‘Well, there were thirteen ways to escape the titan–’  
‘No, Marco, I really don’t care how you escaped the titan. I want fucking know why you left me in the belief you were _dead_.’ Jean felt the heat rising again, his fist tightening that his knuckles went white.  
‘I had no choice,’ replied Marco with his apologetic smile, ‘Erwin said–’  
‘SO HE _KNEW_ IT!’  
‘JEAN!’ Mikasa hissed at him.  
‘SO HE FUCKING KNEW IT AND DIDN’T TELL ME! WHO ELSE KNEW?’  
‘It only were a few–’  
‘Oh yes _of course_ ,’ Jean snapped back.  
‘Hanji knew of it, after all she had to prepare the body–’  
‘WHAT THE ACTUAL _FUCK!_ ’  
‘and Levi coordinated most forces so that you won’t actually see me die.’  
‘MARCO WHY’  
‘I am really sorry Jean, I wished it would have been another task but it had to be – please, Jean! You too believe in the greater good, don’t you? How else had you join the Survey Corps?’  
‘Why you, Marco! Why _you_?’ Jean would have cried if he wasn’t too tired already. He did not know how exhausting emotions could be.  
‘They said I’d be the most trustworthy trainee, and please Jean, be calm, it is not official that I’m not dead.’  
‘OH YES BECAUSE THE FUCKTON OF PEOPLE WHO ALREADY KNOW ARE JUST SO FEW THANK YOU VERY MUCH!’  
‘Jean! I try to explain it to you! Do you think it’s easy, knowing you were somewhere in the country, hunted by titans, whereas I was wandering inside the walls to get information? I had hoped to see you save in the Military Police – even if it meant you being technically my enemy–’  
‘THE FUCK?! _THE FUCK?!?!?_ ’ Jean punched him in the face.

***

The make-up still covering a few freckles on Marco’s cheeks was smeared with blood. They sat in a house entrance, a few buildings from the shady pub they actually had an appointment in.  
Mikasa tried her best and patched Marco up again while Jean stared grumpily at the street.  
‘I wonder when the others come,’ he muttered.  
‘Bho doyo mean?’ Marco asked with a hanky in his nose.  
‘Pfft! As though I’d tell _you_ freckles! You didn’t mind to tell _me_ either.’  
‘Ib you mean Armin and the obers, they saibt they had to hunt someone down before they could meet ub abain.’

Jean blinked.  
‘You – you mean that – you mean that – _that they knew?_ ’  
Marco nodded sheepishly.  
‘THE ACTUAL _FUCK!?!_ ’ – Mikasa threw her fist into his mouth, stopping him to make further noises.  
‘We will meet at the camp, then,’ Mikasa told Marco, ‘so let’s get that idiot out here.’  
The freckled man nodded, and together they shoved Jean back to the Survey Corps’ camp in the woods. Surprisingly, Marco knew the way pretty well, and by the time they had managed to get rid of their unpleasant follower.

**Author's Note:**

> ugh yeah... should it go on? preferrably with "I do not shave for Marco Bott"? idk
> 
> also, I have a tumblr http://inkykinky.tumblr.com and twitter http://twitter.com/inky_kinky


End file.
